


you're not alone

by plaidcest



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Emissary!Stiles, IM SORRY I HAD TO MAKE SCOTT THE BADGUY, M/M, Magic!Stiles, Nogitsune Scott, Season 3B - Canon Divergence, Season 3B AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 08:16:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3112613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaidcest/pseuds/plaidcest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You threw your lot in with his when you abandoned us, Stiles. So now you have to choose. Me? Or him?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're not alone

**Author's Note:**

> This is for my lovely friend Jeremiah (knottawolf on tumblr), because his 17th birthday was the 2nd! So happy belated birthday, I know I promised to give this to you yesterday (because it's 4:31am, January 4th) but yesterday was the day my dad decided I needed to do a shitton of chores and so I couldn't finish it until right now. I hope you enjoy it anyway. 
> 
> ___________________________________________________________

“You threw your lot in with his when you abandoned us, Stiles. So now you have to choose. Me? Or him?”

Stiles nostrils flared and the scent of his anger spike to dangerous levels. “ _I_ abandoned _you_ , Scott McCall? _I_ abandoned _you_? Who the hell was it that didn’t come to any meeting, stopped answering my calls and my texts, stopped coming over or even looking at me in the hallways. You, Scott. That was all you. And now you’re asking me to choose?”

Scott raises an eyebrow, but remains expressionless and the Sheriff stands at the sidelines watching with shock heavy-set in his face.

“I’m willing to let this go, if you choose correctly. I mean, it wouldn’t be very smart or fitting would it? Throwing away years of friendship for someone who ruined our lives.”

Derek is silent and looking at Stiles with furrowed brows, but even in his silence Stiles can see the resigned set of his shoulders.

~

**Wait, wait. I think I need to rewind first, you’ve got no idea what’s happened! Here, let’s see… It was a dreary night and the sky was filled with clouds. Not just any old clouds, oh no. But the kind of clouds that indicate severe thunderstorms and probably some lightning and flooding and**

_STILES. Just start at the beginning would you? And try to cut down on the rambling?_

**You are absolutely no fun at all, Derek.**

~

Stiles doesn’t know how it happened.

One day everything is how it’s been for the past year, well nearly everything. Beacon Hills is in trouble by the most recent set of bad guys, Stiles is going frantic with the research, people are dying, Scott is trying to save everyone, Derek had managed to get tricked into loving another monster, the entire situation is still only revolving around their small group out of all of Beacon Hills, and somehow, _somehow_ , they manage to pull through by the skin of their teeth. Or well… Most of them manage. Not enough of them.

He thought everything would finally fall into place. Scott was finally his own alpha, he didn’t have to defer to Derek, but Derek wasn’t an alpha anymore anyways and it seemed like they’d grown closer over the course of killing Jennifer, saving the Guardian trio, and helping Deucalion finally see the light (pun completely intended). Stiles was wrong.

It was decently chilly outside for a Tuesday morning. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but his front yard and the entire street were bathed in that soft pre-sunrise glow. He wiggled his nose against the stinging air and pulled his sweater around himself tighter as he walked towards the Jeep. There was no cruiser in the driveway and Stiles knew that despite the fact that his dad had only just recently been saved along with Mr. Argent and Melissa that he would be in the station trying to figure out a way to get Agent McCall off the department’s ass and a way to explain just what the hell had happened with all the sacrifices.

Boyd’s funeral was tomorrow.

Stiles climbed into his peeling blue baby and sat in the seat for a moment, his hands clasped together atop the steering wheel. He bit at his lip and swallowed down the thickness in his throat. He hadn’t known Boyd all that well, but in a way he still felt responsible for what he went through. Maybe if he’d only sat down with the guy, made friends with him, things could have been different. Maybe…

Three sharp taps against his window has his heart suddenly pumping and he startles so hard that he almost brains himself with his own flailing hand. He looks out the window only to see Derek, though, and almost immediately his heart settles down. He still glares at the grouch-wolf and in return he gets the Eyebrows of Judgment (Capitols because they are just that prominent) raising and being very judge-y.

He watches as Derek walks around the front of his jeep and opens up the passenger door before slipping inside.

“You’re going to give me a heart attack one day, and if it is your werewolf ass that drives me to one you can damn well bet I’m going to haunt you for the rest of your life.” Derek’s nose wrinkles but he doesn’t make a noise and instead goes to staring at his hands.

“You’ll be there, right?” Contrary to popular belief, Derek isn’t always so broody though, and his voice is soft and slightly warbled. The question isn’t what Stiles was expecting.

“Tomorrow?” He asks, settling his hands on the wheel at three and ten before releasing it and running his fingers through his messy hair. “I didn’t really know him, but yeah I’ll be there.”

Derek nods, just once, before climbing out and walking off down the street. Stiles watches him go, feeling his heart thump loudly in his ribs. His chest aches, just silently acknowledging the fact that no matter how tough his life is, it will never be as rough as Derek’s has been.

He starts the car.

~

Stiles can feel the darkness the Nemeton left around his heart, he can feel it picking at his heart strings and making him weary of everyone. He doesn’t want to become a monster like the one’s they’ve fought. So he thinks of his mom, for the first time in ages, and he thinks of her brightness and how happy she made each and every day no matter how shitty Stiles day had been. He thinks of her love and shoves it back against the darkness and prays every second that it’s enough.

He walks through the hallways, in an out of classrooms, and eats lunch in silence; his brain buzzing with every piece of the past few weeks. No one seems to find anything out of place with his silence, and he doesn’t try to hide his relief at the fact that they’re just letting him think things through. Scott is whispering to Allison and Isaac, Lydia is sitting away at her usual table, Danny beside her as they lean over papers and text books while eating.

His fingers twitch and he doesn’t really clue into Scott, Allison, or Isaac’s conversation and instead just asks them a blunt question. “You guys are coming tomorrow, right?” Their table goes quiet and Allison bites her lip for a second before nodding.

“Yeah, of course we’re coming.” Stiles nods and gets up, leaving his untouched tray on the table for Scott to pick whatever he wants off it. He goes to his locker to grab his notebooks for the next period and tries not to think at the darkness picking at his heart.

~

The funeral was okay. Stiles felt guilty watching at Mrs. Boyd cried and clutched her husband, the second child they’d lost. He felt like an imposter, as if he shouldn’t have been here. He stayed quiet until the casket had been put completely in the ground. The pack was somber around him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know you better.” He whispers before he turns and walks away. His face dry and his expression blank.

~

Of course, even when things have been terrible, as soon as any aspect of B-Hills life starts to get better, bad things happen.

There’d been a murder, a little girl killed and missing her heart, though there weren’t any holes to suggest it had been ripped out of her chest. Agent McCall fights the department tooth and nail, never giving an inch, and makes the entire process of getting her out of there far more arduous than it should have been.

Stiles goes to Deaton. Deaton begins training him in how to use his spark. Stiles phones Scott to tell him but instead he gets the answering machine. He doesn’t tell Scott.

~

The killings continue for two weeks. One child every other day. Always missing their heart, always killed in their bed, always perfectly intact bodies except for the missing hearts.

Scott starts doing patrols, taking Allison, Isaac, and sometimes even the twins with him. Stiles tries to come along but Scott makes him stay out of the woods and in his room doing research. Stiles gets infinitely more frustrated and anytime he brings the fact that he’s been out helping them before up in a conversation Scott snaps at him and Stiles learns to just stop fighting it.

Derek had tried to help at the beginning. He and Scott would team up, but each patrol shared between the two of them would end in snarls and fighting and Scott would be uncharacteristically irate for the rest of the day.

It takes Stiles longer than it should have to notice that Scott is the one the most affected by what they did to save their parents. With his training still going strong with Deaton, he’s been able to notice far more things recently. He can see wisps of broken red magic trailing off the twins, the smoky strings trying to attach to each other but falling short when they fail; their alpha power to join together to become one massive werewolf.

He’d been seeing thin black smoke trail after Scott in the hallways since he started training with Deaton, at first he thought it was just a trick of the light, but as the weeks go by the smoke gets thicker, stronger. It wraps around Scott like its alive and longing for affection and Stiles can see the beginnings of it wrapped around Allison but then she’ll manage to push the darkness away and it won’t come back for the rest of the day. Stiles can’t tell is he has any of that smoke, but if he does he’s hoping he’s controlling it as well as Allison is. As the smoke gets thicker around Scott he becomes angrier, and even though no one else can see the smoke their bodies unconsciously act like they can as none of them every stand too close to him.

Sometimes Stiles thinks Lydia can see it.

~

It takes three weeks from the first killing for Derek to call a meeting and Stiles is all for going, hoping to get his hands on the Hale bestiary because this is definitely something supernatural. He can feel it each time he goes to any of the crime scenes, or each time he sneaks into the morgue with Melissa and gets her to show him the bodies.

Stiles drives over to Derek’s loft, his eyes flicking over each alley and every shadow of the streets as he drives. The hairs on the back of his neck are standing up and he has the distinct feeling of being watched.

When Stiles slides open the large door and walks in he notices that he’s the only one who’s come. Derek is sitting at a table beside the windows staring up at the half full moon with a soft hopelessness on his face. It disappears as soon as Stiles begins stepping into the room, and Derek’s eyes snap to follow the movement. Stiles walks right up to the table, dropping his backpack full of books on the only empty part of the table; the rest of it is covered in papers and old leather bound books. One of the books is buzzing with energy and Stiles itches to reach out and grab it.

Derek looks behind Stiles for a moment before his eyes close and he nods, just a tiny shake of his head. “Scott’s--”

“Not coming, I suspect.” Stiles interrupts and Derek opens his eyes to give Stiles a defeated look. Stiles settles down in one of the seats on his side of the table and folds his hands over themselves as he looks across the table at Derek. “We can wait and see if anyone else comes.”

They wait for an hour in silence before Derek abruptly stands up and stalks to stare out the window.

“Why are you here, Stiles?” the ‘ _why are you here and Scott isn’t’_ isn’t spoken, but the thought it as loud and clear as day to Stiles anyway.

“We need as much help against this thing as we can get, I figure. There hasn’t been even a shred of evidence other than the bodies, even Deaton is stumped. And I’ve been digging as far as I can in the Argent’s bestiary and while Google is my bitch, it’s got nothing for me. I wanted to look into your bestiary, the old Hale one, see if there’s anything. Also, I’m not with Scott anymore. He… The Nemeton is changing him, he isn’t fighting it like me and Allison are. He’s pushing everyone away except for those who he finds useful. I mean Allison is totally capable of handling herself and any baddie that comes for her, Isaac is a wolf, the twins are wolves. Lydia is sort of a middle party, with her banshee status, but she’s friends with Allison so she helps Scott when she can.”

Derek turns away from the window to look back at where Stiles is shrugging.

“And you?”

“I’m not useful to Scott, I’m the token human, good for research but apparently too much of a hassle to have out in the field. His words, not mine, which was a slap to the face. I didn’t know he thought of me that way. I wonder how long he’s been holding that particular barb back.”

“But you’re training to be an emissary.”

Stiles looks up at that statement, his eyes wide. He hadn’t told anyone he was training except for his dad. “How did you know that?”

“There’s… there’s a certain smell and feeling that magic has. It used to be buried underneath your skin, and it would come out in certain moments, just a little bit, but now it’s completely surrounding you. I can feel it buzzing under my skin; it makes me want to shift.”

“Magic has a smell?” Stiles snorts and Derek huffs.

“I’m not entirely explaining it right; it’s more of just something that is. Something so blatant that you don’t know how to really describe it except as itself. You just know.”

“What does it smell like?” Derek gives him an unimpressed look and Stiles grins for the first time in weeks.

“Like a stressed out teenager who should probably be helping his idiotic friend defeat the powers working against him.” Stiles gives Derek an unimpressed look this time.

“I’m not helping him do anything until he apologizes. He’s said some pretty low stuff to me, and I’ve already tried explaining what’s happening to him but he doesn’t care. Now what does it actually smell like?”

“Why are you so interested in what something smells like?”

Stiles shrugs. “Burning curiosity.”

“It smells like life. Like spring and like babies and like the air just before it rains. It smells… pure.” Derek shrugs and Stiles blinks.

“Huh.”

Derek avoids looking at him, instead focusing on the table. “You were here for my books?” He motions to the content in front of him. “Good luck trying to find anything, I’ve been pouring over them for weeks with nothing.”

Stiles gives Derek a calculating look before grabbing the book that’s been calling to him. He settles down into his seat a bit more, putting his feet up on the table and opening the book. He pointedly doesn’t notice the surprised look Derek gives him before Derek settles down too and continues reading whatever he’d been focused on before Stiles got here.

Stiles looks around the loft for a moment, his eyes catching on where Boyd’s body had laid in the ankle deep water. There’s no furniture near the spot, and Stiles finally notices that there’s hardly any furniture period, yet there was far more than last time he was around. There’s a large bed over by the stairs, and two couches as well as a coffee table and an arm chair. Stiles suspects that Derek has moved all his furniture from upstairs to down here. Probably in case of threats, quick escape, but Stiles swallows against the fact that he’d left the spot where Boyd died uncovered.

He blinks and goes back to his book.

~

It started out that way, Stiles going over to Derek’s loft every day after school and reading through the books that Derek had collected. He began working twice as hard on his magic and was pleasantly surprised to notice just how much stronger he was getting. He could light things on fire just by looking at them, he could move objects with his mind and shoot electricity from his fingertips. He could throw the smallest hand of mountain ash into the air and create a barrier around the entirety of Beacon Hills if he wanted.

He starts bringing Derek along with him to Deaton’s and he shows him all that he can do and they manage to get some non-riddle words out of Deaton as to what may be happening. Stiles thinks that he and Derek are a good team, because whenever Derek is there with him when he practices, his powers are stronger than they had been without Derek there. He brings it up with Deaton and Deaton admits that it’s probably because even though Scott is the alpha the land of Beacon Hills has always belonged to the Hale’s. And with the presence and natural magic of Derek beside him, he’s stronger than he would be without it. Being in Scott’s presence would strengthen him, but not as much as Derek is. And if Derek had still been an alpha it would have been even stronger.

Stiles doesn’t tell Derek this fact. Simply to keep something for himself.

~

The killings stop after the fourth week. Stiles doesn’t relax though, and neither does Derek, and when Lydia mentions that she wants to check out Allison’s bestiary and Stiles says that it’s at Derek’s loft, he can get it at lunch, Scott completely freaks out.

He yells at Stiles about how stupid it is to go to Derek when he obviously doesn’t know anything and he just keeps messing everything up.

Stiles realizes that Scott blames Derek for everything. For Allison breaking up with him, for Gerard coming to town, for Deaton being kidnapped and his mom being kidnapped. Scott blames Derek for the things that Derek didn’t even have power over. Stiles watches at the thick wisps of smoke thicken and pulse with Scott’s anger, feeding off of it, and Stiles tries one last time to get Scott to see what is actually happening; to try and break through the Nemeton’s darkness and find his friend again but Scott pushes him away. At the same time that Scott’s hands connect to his chest the wisps reach for him as well and a blinding white light flashes, shoving Stiles and Scott both to the ground.

Scott looks at Stiles like he doesn’t know who he is and Stiles thinks that maybe he doesn’t, not anymore.

Scott hisses at him that he doesn’t want to even see Stiles again, and that Stiles better avoid him in the halls for fear of Scott doing something to him. Stiles doesn’t truly believe the threat, coming from the ever lets-find-a-way-to-fix-this-without-anyone-getting-hurt Scott McCall but then he watches in horror as Scott’s eyes turn completely black with smoke and he runs to his jeep, flooring the pedal till he can run into Derek’s loft.

~

“Derek!” Stiles puts his hands on his knees and pants, his chest constricting his breaths. His vision begins to fade in an out, like he’s viewing things through a dark tunnel and suddenly he can’t breathe and he’s shaking. One minute he’s about to pass out and the next he’s sitting on the ground, head between his knees with two arms wrapped around his waist, two legs bent up beside his and a chin rested on his shoulder.

“… just breathe, Stiles. Come on, you can do it. Focus on my breathing…” Derek’s voice is thin in Stiles buzzing ears but he can still feel Derek’s rhythmic breathing against his back and so he tries to match the steady pace. Breathe in 2, 3, 4. Breathe out 2, 3, 4. In. Out. In. Out.

Slowly but surely Stiles vision comes back to him and he can see the floor of Derek’s loft beneath him. He can see Derek’s bare feet on either side of him, and he blinks. He’s never seen Derek bare-footed; it’s almost a little unsettling. He becomes hyperaware of Derek’s arms around him, Derek’s hand resting in the center of his chest, palm down. He keeps breathing.

“Stiles?” Stiles nods his head and then turns his head so his temple is resting on his knee and he can see Derek’s concerned face.

“How… how did you know what to do?” Stiles asks in between airless breaths and Derek slowly lets him go, pulling his arms away. Stiles misses the warmth and the contact.

“I had a little brother, he was… he was human. He’d get them all the time after he woke up once and mom and dad weren’t in the house. He forgot they had left to go negotiate with another pack. He got them anytime he became particularly stressed out or worried. We all learned how to help after that first time.” Derek doesn’t look at him until he’s finished the story, his eyes looking vaguely sorrowful and Stiles heart jumps in his chest. He hates it when he’s reminded of losing his mother, he can’t imagine how it must be to have lost nearly your entire family.

“Well… thank you.” Derek nods and begins getting up. “Wait!” Stiles sits up and latches onto one of Derek’s arms. Derek stops moving and Stiles licks his lips. “I…” He doesn’t continue the sentence and instead he awkwardly manages to twist himself around enough to wrap his arms around Derek’s neck and hug him. He sits half awkwardly for a few moments, berating the fact that he’s obviously made Derek uncomfortable, and he begins to let go only for Derek to hug him back just as tightly as Stiles had first hugged him. Derek’s hands are warm on his back, and his nose is in the space below Stiles’ ear and if Stiles tightens his grip just a little bit then Derek doesn’t complain and instead does the same.

Stiles tells Derek later about what had happened with Scott.

~

The killings start up again after having stopped for a week. After that day Stiles isn’t afraid to touch Derek. Little things, things he used to do with Scott and things he does with his dad. Fleeting touches on the arm or shoulder, playful nudges and comforting pats. He’ll pull Derek into a hug anytime he finds something that could help, or anytime he successfully learns something new, and Derek has come to completely expect the contact. Stile suspects that maybe he’s even thriving under it. Werewolves seem to be very tactile creatures, and Stiles can’t imagine how it must have been to go from all that contact and comfort to next to nothing and then right to nothing. He tries to make Derek a little more comfortable, and if Derek returns all the touches in equal tandem, well, Stiles isn’t going to complain. He’s a very touch oriented kinda guy.

~

Stiles is sitting on one of the couches, a thick book in his lap of spells and a pen in one hand that he’s absently chewing on. His feet are in Derek’s lap, and Derek has a bestiary Deaton had given them propped against Stiles feet. The door to the loft slides open and both of them share a look before watching as the Sheriff stands on the other side of the open door. His arms are crossed and one of his eyebrows is raised. Derek is tense on the couch and Stiles pulls his feet from Derek’s lap before reaching over and patting Derek on the shoulder, making him relax just a little bit.

“Hey Dad, fancy seeing you here.” Stiles grins and the Sheriff blinks for a moment before he looks between Derek and Stiles.

“Just wondered where you got off to everyday after school. I called Scott, but apparently you haven’t gone to his house in weeks.” Stiles winces at the mention of Scott and Derek opens his mouth to say something but Stiles beats him to it.

“Me and Scott aren’t really friends anymore. I’ve been coming here after school every day for the past two weeks because Derek and I are going through as many books as we can find to figure out what’s eating kids hearts. It’s really hard though, to get anything when every time we finally manage to make it to a crime scene, Scott and his pack have already trampled everything and covered all the scents that could possibly be around. But we’re getting there. Derek also helps me train with Deaton.”

The Sheriff gives him a calculating look before he nods and he walks into the loft to sit down on the couch opposite of them. “I can’t promise you anything, what with McCall being a major pain in my ass and trying to keep me and the deputies off this case, but I’ll try to get you into the next one. I have Deputy Parrish controlling the other deputies. They know to give me first word of when a body is found. I could help you see the bodies, Derek, if you think that would help. We… Well we kind of have an abundance of them, and Stiles told me you were a born werewolf so your senses are stronger than Scott’s or Isaac’s would be.”

“Scott and Isaac have seen the bodies?!” Stiles almost shouts and the Sheriff gives him an unimpressed look.

“Please. Without you helping him, Scott isn’t quite capable of breaking into the morgue. Especially when his mother is on shift.”

“Are you sure they’d allow that though? I was a murder suspect--”

“An innocent suspect!” Stiles parrots and Derek gives him a look. Stiles grins.

“They’re not likely to forget that and let me onto any crime scene.” Derek finishes and the Sheriff nods.

“I can tell them that you’re a special consultant for now, but it won’t work for long with Agent McCall here. You’re probably going to have to actually start training with the force to keep the job. It would definitely help me with all the supernatural stuff that keeps happening in this damned town… If you wanted a job, anyways.”

Derek blinks. “How do you know I haven’t already got a job?”

The Sheriff gives him a small smirk. “You think Stiles is the only one to look into people’s files? It’s actually my job to know things. Besides, if I can’t convince you to help me that way, if you did join up with us then you’d have an excuse to not see Stiles. I know he can be plenty annoying on a good day.”

Stiles glares over at his dad and Derek looks like he’s at a loss for words. The Sheriff nods and claps his hands together, as if that’s all he really came here to say, and then he stands up.

“Think about the offer, Hale. If you guys find anything, let me know, I’ll let you know when another body pops up.” Derek stands up abruptly just as the Sheriff reaches the door.

“Sheriff?” Stiles dad turns around and looks at him with raised eyebrows. “Thank you. And he’s not all that bad. Even on a bad day.” The Sheriff smiles widely and then leaves, sliding the door closed after himself. Stiles feels his cheeks heat up and he tries to hide a smile behind the spell book in his hands.

Stiles gets a text half an hour later telling him to invite Derek for dinner.

He somehow manages to do it, too, between a paragraph of rambling about how Derek shouldn’t be a lone wolf anymore now that Stiles is here and aren’t they friends, Derek?

Derek accepts somehow, too. And Stiles doesn’t bring up the fact that the tips of Derek’s ears may be a little pinker than normal. (Not that he notices Derek’s ears, definitely not.)

~

So Derek comes to the Stilinski house for meals every few nights the following week, and they start spending an equal amount of time researching at Stiles house now as they do at Derek’s loft. The Sheriff easily goes right on touching Derek after he notices Stiles doing it enough. Derek adapts to it easily, but he always has this nostalgic look on his face whenever the Sheriff calls him son, or gives him a fatherly shoulder squeeze. Stiles tries to hide how it affects him.

~

The red and blue lights flash in Stiles eyes as he and Derek slip under the police tape. Deputy Parrish nods at them and then steps forward to stand guard at the tape anymore, not even blinking an eye at the supper appearance of the sheriff’s son and a previous murder suspect. Stiles likes him.

They wander into the house, slowly, and Stiles stays as quiet and still as he can, letting Derek do all his werewolf mojo while he also does some of his magical emissary power voodoo. He manages to make a ghostly image of an owl fly past them into the house and up the stairs before it dissipates into the air. He shares a look with Derek before they both travel up the stairs and into the first room. His dad is standing there, just inside the door, staring at the open window with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Little girl, Allie Laughton, nine years old. Heart missing. She was put to bed at around ten, and her parents came in to check on her every half hour. They noticed she was dead at exactly one in the morning. No visual evidence as to how the heart wasn’t inside her body.” The Sheriff doesn’t even turn to look at them and Derek nods at him before he begins to make his rounds of the room. Stiles tries the spell he’d tried downstairs, this time the glowing owl image flies in through the open window with deadly accuracy. It lands on the bed, where a glowing image of a little girl is laying. The owl’s head tilts to the side for a moment before it creepily stalks up from the foot of the bed and settles on the girls chest. It leans in towards her mouth before they both dissipate into the air and Stiles stares at the space with wide confused eyes.

Owls?

~

Deaton tells them that what they say with Stiles magic was an ancient story known by the Seminole tribe as the Stikini: typically they lived in Florida, and then moved to Oklahoma. Deaton doesn’t know how one managed to find its way to Beacon Hills, but Stiles doesn’t find it all that surprising.

Stikini are known as, essentially, shape-shifters. They originally were evil witches who had transformed themselves into owl-beings. By day they can wander around in human form, but by night they change into owls. To change their forms they must puke up their intestines then they can change into their owl form. In their owl form they fly into people’s houses rip the beating hearts of their sleeping prey out through the prey’s mouth, before flying off to eat the organ. After feasting, the Stikini-owls must then go find their organs and swallow them for them to turn back into their human form.

Stiles wonders just how many fucked up monsters they’re going to come across in Beacon Hills. Deaton doesn’t seem to find anything out of the ordinary about the monster. Thankfully Derek seems to be just as grossed out as he is.

The only way to kill a Stikini is to find and destroy the organs before the Stikini come back for them. If the Stikini cannot change back to human form before the sun rises then the sun makes them extremely weak, and you kill their owl form with arrows or any other weapon that has been ritually prepared and dressed with sacred herbs. Typically the weapons are decorated with owl feathers, but Deaton admits that the weapons don’t have to be, it was simply a style.

They begin to gather the herbs they need to defeat the damned owl-thing.

Stiles sends a text to everyone in Scott’s pack telling them to meet him and Derek in the school parking lot tomorrow night. He knows what’s killing things. He doesn’t get answers from anyone. But he shrugs it off and continues working on the ritual to prepare the herbs.

~

Stiles and Derek wait on one end of the parking lot. It’s Sunday and the parking lot is completely empty save for Stiles jeep and the sheriff’s cruiser. The Sheriff is leaning on the boot of the cruiser, and Stiles and Derek are both partially seated on the back of the jeep. Stiles’ hands are buried in his sweater pockets, his hood up over his unruly hair. Derek is a source of warmth beside him, even wearing his leather jacket, and so Stiles is leaning against Derek as they wait for everyone to turn up. There’s packs of herbs in the back of the jeep, so that those with weapons can be ritually prepared. Stiles starts to fall asleep on Derek’s shoulder.

The sky is dark with thick storm clouds, and the air is charged with electricity, but Derek is relaxed, letting Stiles lean his head on his shoulder. The Sheriff doesn’t say anything. The distance sky flashes with faraway lightning.

Derek tenses up as soon as Scott is even five miles away in the forest beyond the school and so Stiles forces himself to wake up and sit up straight. He still scoots closer so his and Derek’s arms are against each other, trying to leech some of the crazy body heat out of Derek Hale, Werewolf Heater ™.

He runs his hand through his hair, pushing the hood down as he does it and that’s when he sees them. Scott walks out of the trees first, his face furious, Allison is on his left and Isaac is on his right. Lydia, the twins, and even Danny come in behind them, although Lydia doesn’t seem to be too happy about walking through the woods at night in the heels she’s currently wearing.

Scott makes them stop eight feet away from Stiles and Derek. He raises an eyebrow but Allison is the one to talk.

“You said you knew what it was that’s killing kids?” She sounds concerned, and Stiles can only see the barest trails of smoke around her chest. She’s still fighting it, then. Scott is almost entirely wrapped in a thick black mass. Stiles blinks and forces himself to stop seeing the magic and only see the people. He nods before quietly explaining what Deaton told them, their plan, and explaining the herbs and all that they have to do. Scott stays silent the entire time, but his eyes never leave Stiles face.

Derek opens the back of the jeep while Stiles talks and he grabs the bags of herbs, tossing one to each of the people there. Lydia looks at the bag curiously and Ethan takes a curious sniff only to starts sneezing uncontrollably. Stiles tries to cover up his laugh with a cough but Ethan gives him a chagrinned look between sneezes.

Allison looks at Scott after Stiles finishes explaining and Scott motions her forward with his forehead. Stiles and Allison set to preparing arrows and knives with the herbs and once that’s finished Lydia, Danny, and Stiles each grab a knife. Stiles helps the wolves prepare their claws with the herbs, hoping against hell that it’ll work with those particular weapons despite the fact that they’re not separate from the wolves’ bodies.

Once that is all covered, Stiles opens his mouth to explain the plan when Scott steps forward.

“Are you really doing this Stiles?” Stiles blinks.

“What?”

“Are you really siding with Derek?” The Sheriff looks like he’s about to step in, his eyes wide as he watches what Scott has become in just a few weeks, but Stiles motions for him to stop where he is, to let Stiles handle this.

“Why wouldn’t I side with the guy who’s got the most experience here, Scott?”

Scott glares at him. “You’re my best friend Stiles. Or you were. That doesn’t have to change. We can go back to that. You can join my pack and we’ll pretend like none of your rebellion has happened.”

“My rebellion?!” Scott ignores him.

“You threw your lot in with his when you abandoned us, Stiles. So now you have to choose. Me? Or him?”

Stiles nostrils flared and the scent of his anger spike to dangerous levels. “ _I_ abandoned _you_ , Scott McCall? _I_ abandoned _you_? Who the hell was it that didn’t come to any meeting, stopped answering my calls and my texts, stopped coming over or even looking at me in the hallways. You, Scott. That was all you. And now you’re asking me to choose?”

Scott raises an eyebrow, but remains expressionless and the Sheriff stands at the sidelines watching with shock heavy-set in his face.

“I’m willing to let this go, if you choose correctly. I mean, it wouldn’t be very smart or fitting would it? Throwing away years of friendship for someone who ruined our lives.”

Derek is silent and looking at Stiles with furrowed brows, but even in his silence Stiles can see the resigned set of his shoulders.

~

**So, here we are. I hope you understand. I’m doing what I have to. I don’t like it. But he’s leaving me no choice.**

~

“You don’t know me very well then, do you?” Stiles snaps and everyone who was a part of Scott’s little pack looks shocked as his eyes flare bright white. “Have fun finding an emissary who will deal with your bullshit, Scott. Because you’re not going to be talking to me ever again unless it’s to apologize.” Stiles turns around and walks right up to Derek, wrapping his arms around Derek’s neck and hiding his face in the warmth there. Derek’s frozen in shock for a moment before his arms wrap around Stiles in return.

Derek doesn’t point out or bring attention to how minutely Stiles is shaking in his arms, and instead he watches as Scott glares at him.

“You said we were brothers once Derek, you were wrong.” Scott turns and begins walking away, Isaac reluctantly following. Allison casts once last glance at Derek and Stiles before she too follows Scott. Lydia and Ethan and Aiden stand at the side, Danny watching Scott disappear into the trees. Stiles relaxes just a fraction, turning to look only to see that a few people had still remained before he tenses up again and Aiden reflexively brings his hands up, knowing better than to accidentally piss of an already emotionally tumultuous emissary.

Sheriff Stilinski easily walks towards Stiles and Derek and gives Derek a grim smile. “I’ll be at the house, bring him back tomorrow morning for breakfast.” Derek gives a mute nod and the Sheriff nods back before walking over to his car and getting in with a sigh.

“I can’t believe he actually just did that.” Lydia huffs and puts her hands on her hips, looking back at where Scott disappeared. Stiles gives her a look.

“Aren’t you lot going to go join him? He’s the only alpha in town; you’d be safe in his pack.”

Lydia full of scoffs at that and stalks forward to flick Stiles in the middle of the forehead. Aiden winces and Danny tries to cover up a laugh with a cough.

“Safe from outside enemies, perhaps, but not from inside ones. Whatever the Nemeton left in Scott, well Scott’s just going to have to learn to control it before it kills him and everyone around him. He’s become a completely insufferable person, Stiles, and I’d much rather be friends with the one person in Beacon Hills who will show me the respect I deserve.” She looks at Stiles with a raised eyebrow for a moment haughtily until launching into a hug and pulling him close. Stiles is frozen.

Derek looks at the twins and Danny with a raised eyebrow and Danny grins at him. “I’m guessing your name isn’t actually Miguel, and you’re not actually Stiles cousin then?” Derek feels his ears turn pink but before he can say anything Stiles is laughing, his head tilted back completely and the sound loud and brazen in the quiet parking lot. Derek has missed the sound.

~

They stalk through the woods in two groups. The twins with Lydia and Danny, Derek with Stiles. They don’t stray from each other too far, but they still comb the woods and keep their cell phones at the ready.

It’s a little past four in the morning when Derek hones in on the smell of organs. It’s a little worrying to Stiles how Derek knows without a doubt what human-ish organs smell like, but he’s willing to let it go for now to save his sanity. Stiles calls Lydia and it’s not long before her group joins back up with theirs. They find the organs hanging in a bag up in a tree, and Ethan easily climbs up the large tree and cuts it down with his claws. Stiles shrugs at everyone before flicking his fingers and lighting the bag on fire. Derek wanders away from the fire, and Stiles gives him an apologetic look but Derek just shakes his head and gives him a small smile. The smell of burning meat is strong in his nose.

Derek makes a noise of surprise from fifteen feet away and they all turn to look as he climbs up the tree. A bag similar to the one Ethan cut down falls to the ground. Derek stays up in the tree and Aiden stays by the first bag while Stiles goes to light the second on fire. Soon enough there are eight bags roasting on the forest floor.

“It explains the pure number of death’s though, if you think about. But why are they all out at once? Why isn’t one of them watching over their organs?” Stiles thinks out loud.

“They probably know that there are wolves in town, though. So they travel in numbers in the city, not worrying about the wolves being this far out if all of them are on high alert in the city. I know Scott only ever patrolled just inside the tree line. We never went deeper.” Danny pipes up and Stiles nods.

“We should all actually hide. I can mask our scents long enough for the Stikini to actually land and then we can take them out.”

~

Naturally it’s not so easy.

The hiding part is easy. The rest of it? Not so much.

The Stikini are vicious birds and there’s at least an hour before the sun rises, not that it matters when it starts raining just as the birds touch down on the forest floor.

They’re large birds, nearly three times the size of any owl Stiles has ever seen. And they’re as smart, if not smarter than their little ragtag pack seem to be.

Lydia seems to have been training with Allison, because she handles her long dagger with a practiced ease, but the owl she’s against is fast and guileless and has no reason to be anything other than a brutal animal. Ethan is helping Danny against two particularly spiteful birds, and Aiden is slightly split off the group fighting his own bird. Stiles and Derek are back to back, surrounded by the biggest four birds.

Stiles can hardly see through the rain dripping down his forehead, but he holds the handle to his knife with both hands and glares through the rain. Derek is a solid presence at his back and anytime an owl tries to lash at one of them they both surge.

The birds seem to realize that they’re not going to be able to attack Derek and Stiles one at a time. And soon all four are swooping in to attack them all at once. Stiles can feel their sharp beaks ripping at his clothes, and they fly up so that they can try and claw at him. He can herd Derek growling behind him, and the owls shriek in anger.

The storm thickens above them and this only seems to spur the birds on. But Stiles can hear as everyone else finishes off their birds. Stiles had managed to kill one of their birds, electrocuting it before stabbing it with the knife, and he knows Derek had managed to kill one as well. Stiles stabs the third one just as he hears a shocked gasp behind him. He turns with lightning speed and doesn’t even stop to think before he throws his knife at the last bird. He wills the knife to move and it shoots straight into the last birds heart like a well-aimed arrow. Derek is lying on the ground and there’s a thick gash across his chest that Stiles can see even in the rain.

He rushes to Derek’s side, and everyone else stills around them. Derek’s blood is thick on his hands as Stiles pulls his hoodie off and pushes it against the wound.

“Derek? Derek! Come on, dude. Answer me!” Stiles hisses.

Derek manages to cough out a rough “Don’t call me dude.”

“I’ll call you dude as much as I wanna call you dude. How deep did the claws go?” Derek shakes his head and arches off the ground as Stiles pushes a little harder. He mutters a quick spell and a ball of light flies up to stay above him. He lifts the hoodie for a moment and can’t see anything but blood everywhere. When he puts the clothing item back on Derek’s chest he notices that his hands are still covered in blood, and that it’s seeping through the cloth and between his fingers. He tries to hold back a gag and ends up sounding like he’s choking instead.

“It’s gonna be fine! It’s gonna be fine, you’ll heal up and then I can slap you for scaring me this bad.” Lydia kneels down beside him and deftly puts her hands down on one end of the hoodie. She’s holding over the thickest part of the cut and Stiles takes a deep breath. Ethan and Aiden crouch down to hold Derek’s shoulders down and Danny settles across from him on Derek’s other side, waiting for instructions. Stiles makes the light bigger before lifting up just one piece of the hoodie. Blood oozes from the cut and Stiles takes another deep breath before he focuses his energy and makes some of the rain follow his movements and wash away the blood as it comes out.

The cut is deep, and there was no mention of poison in any further research they did, so Stiles doesn’t know why Derek isn’t healing. He pushes the sweater back down and leans up so his head is even with Derek’s. He glares at him.

“You cut that out right now, asshole.”

Derek’s sigh is pain filled and he manages to open his eyes to see Stiles above him.

“Cut… cut what out.”

“You need to let yourself heal! Why aren’t you letting yourself heal?”

“You should… you should be helping Scott.”

“OH MY GOD THE TWO OF YOU ARE GOING TO KILL ME! He wouldn’t let himself heal when you thought he was dead, you won’t let yourself heal because you think I shouldn’t be friends with you and that you’ve taken me from Scott. Well guess what, asshole? I’m my own person, brain, heart, everything. And I chose you, before Scott even made me choose, I chose you!” Stiles grabs Derek’s cheeks between his hand and growls as Derek closes his eyes. He forces a thin level of electricity through Derek’s skin and Derek’s eyes snap open, glowing blue. He growls in retaliation but before he’s able to utter a single word Stiles leans forward and kisses him.

It’s cold and it’s wet and Derek is too shocked to kiss him back but Stiles figures it gets his point across just fine and so he leans back and glares at Derek. “I chose you.”

Derek is looking up at him with wide eyes and Danny chokes out a laugh. “Is this why you asked me if you were attractive to gay guys, Stilinski?” Stiles feels his cheeks heat up and Ethan laughs up above him. Stiles ignores the both of them an raises his eyebrows at Derek, who’s hand had managed to snake up behind Stiles head and soon enough Stiles is being pulled down so that Derek can kiss him.

“I chose you too, if you stop calling me dude.” Derek whispers against his lips and Stiles snorts, sitting back up.

“As if, dude.”

~

Breakfast is a quiet affair; they’re all sitting down around the Stilinski dining room and kitchen in different states of disarray. Lydia still manages to look like a queen, even if she does look a little on the wild side. And all of them are kind of soaked through in tattered shirts that are stained with blood. The Sheriff is the only one who is sleepily rumpled, though, and yet as he wanders into the kitchen he doesn’t even bat an eyelash at all of them where they’re settled like extras from a horror movie. They’ve each got a towel, so as to try and lessen the mess, and Stiles is cooking breakfast with Derek’s help.

“Is everything settled, then?” The Sheriff asks and Aiden nods, there’s no more talking after that other than to ask someone to pass the orange juice or the eggs. There’s a knock at the door in the middle of their breakfast and Stiles gives the collective group a look before he ducks out to answer it.

He’s not expecting who’s on the other side.

Allison and Isaac stand on his porch, Isaac just slightly behind Allison, letting her take the lead and Allison gives Stiles a sad look.

“We know that Scott said you had to choose. And we walked away with him, but Stiles we need your help. There’s something inside of him. He isn’t able to fight it. Will you please help us?”

There’s a warm presence behind his back in the next few seconds and Stiles can tell that the rest of their little pack has congregated behind him in the front entrance. He holds the door open a little wider and looks back at the group. They all seem to know what he’s about to say though, and so he gives them a small grin before turning to face Allison and Isaac.

“We’ll help you.”

~

The week starts again like any other. Stiles wakes up, goes to school, but now after school he goes to Derek’s loft with Aiden, Ethan, Lydia, and Danny, sometimes Isaac or Allison, and they all dig through their collective books for a clue as to how to fix Scott.

Stiles is the only one who touches the Hale bestiary, and as he’s scouring the pages he notices a folded piece of paper. There’s a spell on it in ancient Latin, but Stiles has been getting lessons from Lydia and so he’s able to read what it says himself.

He glances up at Derek with wide eyes.

He may not have found a spell to help Scott, but he’s found a way to make Derek an alpha again, and maybe that’s a step in the right direction.

Now if only to convince Derek.

He tucks the paper away in his pocket and keeps reading, his mind racing with ideas.


End file.
